


kiss my lip (and i'll bite yours too)

by jjins



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Fantasy, Graphic Description of Corpses, Heavy Angst, Hunter Jung Wooyoung, Implied Sexual Content, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jung Wooyoung-centric, M/M, Mentioned Other ATEEZ members, Personal Growth, Requited Love, Time Travel, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vampire Choi San, Vampire Hunters, Vampire Kang Yeosang, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27019240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjins/pseuds/jjins
Summary: "You told me that you kill monsters," San said nonchalantly, setting down his cup. "Jung Wooyoung, pride of the Jungs and possibly the best vampire slayer there is in Seoul, and yet..."Wooyoung swallowed his coffee and without breaking eye contact, dumped the rest of his drink into San's; watching red and brown swirl before it settled to the colour of bloodrust. "And yet?""And yet, those who say they hunt monsters, usually are the real monsters of this world, Wooyoung."Wooyoung stared, and San flashed the hunter a smile, all fanged tooth and wicked claws, picking up the bloodied cup of coffee and ichor:"You were the exception."alternatively: Jung Wooyoung is the best vampire hunter in his family. His new assignment, hunt down the newly fledged vampire Choi San.The only problem? Those he knows by the back of his hand... usually know him the best too.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 5
Kudos: 81
Collections: All Hallows ATEEZ Exchange





	kiss my lip (and i'll bite yours too)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starlightstarshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightstarshine/gifts).



> ***NOTE:
> 
> Please keep in mind the tags for this fic. I have not marked out specific triggers in this fic, but I can tell you that Wooyoung in this fic is a bit unhinged at the beginning and middle. Thus, please avoid this fic if you are not into blood and gore, and also depictions of apathy and non-sexual sadism in the scenes of violence. 
> 
> The author realises that this is a work of fiction, and thus the depictions of characters are not accurate to the real-life idols. Please recognize that this is a work of fiction and that this does not reflect the actions of idol in real life.

“ _Him_?”

The question rang throughout the room, meeting silver-infused walls with a slight echo which reflected back to books piled high on the floor, windows slightly shaking at the force of the words. Gloved hands hit the worn wooden table, leather protesting as fingers dragged across the surface in unconcealed disgust, the snarl of their owner dripping in disgust.

However, the blue-haired man sat behind said table barely moved an inch, fixating cold eyes on the leather-clad figure before them, gaze piercing and curious as if the question wasn’t entirely expected.

“Yes, him _._ I figured you would be most familiar with this one, given your past circumstan─”

“ _Shut up,_ ” the figure before him shook, their hands finding the edge of the table again. Although their hands no longer shook, the air visibly tensed around their figure, a shadow of fear and sadness lurking within their shaken frame. “Shut up, I don’t care what you do, but get his case out of my file. I can take on a lot, hyung, but this one’s… I can’t do it.”

A manicured eyebrow shot up at the sudden confession. “Can’t do what? I thought you were the best vamp hunter out there, and you refuse an assignment outright because of what, your _fling_ with this monster two weeks ago?”

For a moment, the air between the two figures seemed to condense, and then crack, the mirrored silence shattering near the edges as black eyes met brown, dark and calculating as the hunter sought out the features of the man in front of them. Their hands came off the table, albeit still clenched into fists, and the hunter spoke once more. 

“There is no question that I spent my life trying to kill those monsters, Hongjoong,” they hiss, stepping closer to face the smaller man directly, breath tickling the strands of hair which had fallen from their place in the mini ponytail. “It is my duty to destroy them, no matter what the cost.”

A pause. Then, a slow breath being let out.

“...There’s no way I can face him again. Not when he knows who I am, not when he sees what I’ve been doing to others like him. _Fuck_ , we even laughed about how he was going to try and get into the stupid academy my parents own to help me during hunts, isn’t that crazy?”

The hunter spits out the last few words as if they burned their tongue, eyes shining in the low light of the room as Hongjoong simply stared at them, gaze still questioning. After a bit, the other turns back to stare right back at the blue-haired man, gaze flickering between both of Hongjoong’s eyes before they let out a scoff.

“I know that look. There’s no one else to take him, is there?”

Hongjoong’s gaze turns pitiful for a second, and that’s all it takes for the hunter to sigh, pushing the long strands of black hair out of their eyes before focusing those eyes back on the smaller. The lights flicker between them, their shadows dancing on the ancient walls of the safe room as the other sighs, adjusting the straps of his glove before picking up an ornate scabbard from where it had rested on the table, jewelled handle glistening in the light as if tiny beads of blood decorated it.

A candle flickered, wax dripping down as the shadow of the hunter made its way to the iron-cast door. Boots clicking across the hardwood floor, the sound of locks clicking open as the other forced the exit open, a gust of wind making its way into the safe room, pages adorned with weapon blueprints and cross sections of fanged mouths fluttering in the breeze.

A step towards the exit. 

“...listen, I can remove him from your list if you’re uncomfortable with it.” Hongjoong interrupted, eyes reflecting the dancing of candlelight as he stares at the back of the hunter. “It’s a lot to force on you today, and I understand if you two still have… unresolved issues. I can put him on hold, wait for another hunter to tackle him; I can─”

“No need.”

Hongjoong falters, staring at the unmoving figure, at how the warmth of the light only seems to make the scars displayed on the hunter’s bare forearms more prominent. A moment passes, the soft sound of wind whistling through the room, the only sound shared between the two and the hunter seems to relax, hand coming up in a mock salute as the door closes between the two.

The blue-haired man only stares at the back of the hunter, slowly disappearing behind the frame of the door, and turns back to the case file laid on the table.

“Be careful with him, Wooyoung.”

* * *

_URGENT: IMMEDIATE DISPOSAL_

_Choi San: Age: 21 and two weeks_

_Age turned: 21_

* * *

_I_ _t wasn’t like this._

_It wasn’t supposed to be like this._

Rain splattered around him, decorating his black rain jacket with bursts of water droplets as Wooyoung rushed through the crowd, the people around him a smear compared to the darkening sky as the sun began to set. Soon enough, this street would light up, lanterns glowing artificial gold onto rain-slick pavement and the steps before him, his boots tearing up puddles as the hunter ran past the food stalls and market stands, hair matting from the damp air.

_An abandoned mansion. Somewhere within, a light flickered with the shadow of two people, back to back._

Wooyoung ground his teeth together, breath coming out in puffs as he faced the familiar crossroads in front of him, heel turning to slip between crowds of teenagers and kids into the back alley, the rain pouring down around him. Fat droplets hit the top of his head and he opted to take his hood off, letting the rain fully soak his hair to get rid of the sensation of sweat. Besides himself, Wooyoung could see no one else in this alleyway aside from some stray cats, an old man sleeping near the dumpster, and the occasional shout of someone from the neighbouring buildings.

The downpour continued, but the alleyway prevented most of the rain from getting in as the wind blew the majority of the rainwater away. As Wooyoung caught his breath, a quick scan showed that beside him, there were no other hunters nearby.

_A dimpled smile. Warm hands grasping at his own, slick with blood yet trying so valiantly to grab the slippery leather gloves._

_Warmth. And then there was none._

Wooyoung groaned, rubbing at his eyes with a gloved hand before dropping it to his side, fishing out a rubber band from a sewn-on pocket. As he tied up his damp hair, an inkling of relief bloomed within his chest, a long sigh working itself out as he shook himself up, taking the time to pull off a boot and empty it of the small pebbles.

_You could’ve saved him._

“Shut up,” Wooyoung mutters to no one in particular, bending down to tie his shoelaces, pulling at the cords extra tight so that they won’t come loose─

Won’t trip him up.

Won’t cost him time anymore.

Hongjoong was a dick for offering the job to Wooyoung, the hunter’s prestige widely known for being the most deadly weapon that the Jungs had to offer. Wooyoung finishes lacing them up, and the rain fades, the brief moment of cover for Wooyoung’s scent gone as the hunter stands and stretches, rolling his shoulders to survey the path in front.

So far, it was just Wooyoung, the walls around him, and the last few dregs of rain clouds that would possibly cover his tracks until he got home. It would be wise to disguise himself a bit more than the attire that he had strutted away at Hongjoong’s location, as vampires would have no trouble simply recognizing him from what he wore constantly. Hell, had Hongjoong not been there to suggest a potentially different outfit to each hunt, Wooyoung’s signature gloves would have been a prime piece of information to be able to track the hunter down.

He hunted, he killed, and someone was there to clean up afterwards. Wooyoung’s system, without fail, works every damn time. It didn’t matter to him if the target was well respected or not, nor if they had family or loved ones; a body was still a body to Wooyoung, just like any form of currency always counts as value.

And to Wooyoung? These monsters did not have a shred of humanity to save from their wretched souls.

“...it’s interesting, how you say that and still haven’t gone after these so-called monsters.”

Wooyoung whirled around, blood pounding in his ears as his hand settled upon his dagger. His eyes raked across the alleyway, shadows bleeding and blending into each other like ink as the hunter clenched the handle tighter, listening to the whispers of the wind.

For a second, there was nothing. Nothing but blood roaring in Wooyoung’s ears, the quiet murmur of people behind the hunter, walking without a care in the world.

Then, there were sharp talons pressed against the wide expanse of his neck, scraping over the little thin lines of wire scars left from previous hunts, cold skin chilling the back of his neck so that the foreign voice dropped almost to a whisper.

“Easy there, fox,” the voice purrs, and Wooyoung fights the urge to not to throw the silver dust in his back pocket, instead dropping both of his hands by his sides, allowing himself to feel the wicked tips of the stranger’s fingertips as he swallows down a breath. “Wanna explain why you’re here all by your lonesome?”

“Piss off,” Wooyoung breathes, and this seems to only amused the other, who in turn let out a chuckle and pressed sharpened edges harder into Wooyoung’s neck, tension threatening to break through skin and allow blood to flow through.

“Such a pretty face… it almost makes me wonder why you put yourself through this, pet,” Wooyoung’s breath hitches at the name, and it doesn’t go unnoticed, talons shiftings. “You like that? Being called a pet, darling?”

“Like I said, _master_ ; piss off.”

“Feisty,” they chuckle, and Wooyoung takes this moment to reassess their surroundings. The rain has all but stopped, the gentle drip of drainage providing a lull of rhythm in the background as his muscles tense, slowing his breathing to match the pattern.

_Drip._

The lights flicker, the wind coming in towards the inside of the alleyway. Not much problem to kill and be bloodied, as the scent would travel inwards.

_Drip._

The press of talons attached to a somewhat withered hand, pallid skin cool to the touch where it was pressing against Wooyoung’s racing veins. He could risk a punch─ no, a jab to the stomach, knock the vamp out to slip out. 

“...Doll, what do you think? Would it be enough for me to turn you right here, for you to be mine?”

Wooyoung exhales, and the air relaxes with him. He can almost sense the fucker’s grin behind him, the vamp mistaking his exhale for submission, for an invitation.

Stupid of them to even think that Wooyoung was ever the prey between them.

_Drip._

_Drip, drop._

A sole figure leaves the alleyway, leaving nothing but a marred corpse behind, hands neatly severed at the wrists and placed away from the body, tips of the fingers crushed and minced. They glisten under the moonlight, under the flickering glare of the lamppost, and it’ll be too long until the body’s discovered later, with the Jungs unhurriedly stuffing the mangled remains of the vampire into the sun, watching it disintegrate into ash and a pile of used clothes.

Wooyoung doesn’t speak of the matter. 

Thin red lines decorate the expanse of his neck, but Wooyoung just smirks at them whenever he passes a mirror, tracing over them absentmindedly until they disappeared not even a day later, leaving only a few pieces of dried blood behind.

Scabs fell, ugly things which only served as a last reminder of how the vamp had flinched when Wooyoung stabbed their stomach, a last reminder of how Wooyoung laughed when it was the vampire staring up at him in fear, a predator discovering that there were monsters way worse than them.

_How would he think of you after he sees this?_

Fear, maybe; maybe even disgust. Fear of seeing Wooyoung like this, with more blood on his hands than any monster he was hired to kill, blood drenching leather and seeping into his scalp, the cracks between his fingernails. 

Maybe he’ll even back away, learn to avoid Wooyoung just like the other monsters he kills.

Wooyoung doesn’t sleep that night. In his dresser, the dagger glints back at the hunter, still slick with blood, always a reminder of his identity.

He doesn’t have anyone else. No one except him, who Wooyoung was assigned to kill.

Wooyoung kills two more rogues that week, and the Jungs find him sitting next to the corpse both times, idly tracing patterns into crimson skin.

Maybe he was always more of a monster than San was, fangs and claws aside.

Maybe Wooyoung deserved nothing less than what he was doing to the vampires, a monster masquerading as a hero.

* * *

  
  


“... have you started on your assignment, Wooyoung?”

Silence. Hongjoong sighs, a hand coming to rub at their forehead.

“Wooyoung, if you truly can’t do it, I can always remove─”

“I want to.”

Hongjoong falls silent, staring at the brooding hunter. The scent of blood had been pungent around them, and Hongjoong stares at the rust covering Wooyoung’s fingernails, old blood caked onto worn knuckles and the dagger they twirled between deft fingers.

“Listen, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose. “What you’re doing now─ leaving trails of dead rogues for your family to clean up, coming back from bloodbaths each night, staining the ground of Seoul red─ this isn’t you. You’re not yourself, and I heavily suggest that you take some time to yourself if you can’t handle it.”

Silence. Hongjoong hums, and continues.

“As your director, I can’t even begin to understand the morals of hunter laws, but I do understand morals. And your morals, Wooyoung, have always been tested, no matter what you say.

“Take a break, Woo. Get some time for yourself, settle and rest up. You’re in no shape to hunt, much less take on a fledgling. Go back and take a break, come back when your mind is ready for what’s ahead.”

At Wooyoung’s quietness, Hongjoong looks back up at the younger, eye trailing over their face and the hand which had stopped twirling the dagger.

A pause. Then:

“...I’ll be leaving now, hyung. Thank you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on Hongjoong’s lips as Wooyoung leaves, the iron door swinging shut.

“Take your time, Woo.”

* * *

It was a miracle, really, of how Wooyoung had met San for the first time.

A vamp, freshly turned, had been prowling the parameters of the dessert shop that Wooyoung had always loved to visit after classes. He knows now that they were called rogues, fledgling abandoned by their so-called ‘sires’ who turned and killed without batting an eye, leaving these newborns staggering on their newfound bloodlust and inability to meet the sun’s glare. Teetering on the edge of mania, unhinged fledglings were the worst of the vampires; always killing and feeding on anything in their way.

It was simply fate who had put them in each other’s paths that day; candy spilling over the sleeves of Wooyoung’s too-big shirt and the small, scrawny boy who had managed to shove a pen between the snapping jaws of the rogue, the tinge of blood carving new pathways down dirty arms where the vampire had grazed soft skin with taloned hands.

Wooyoung’s guards had dispatched of the creature in an instant, nimble and quick enough so that the fledgling didn’t even had time to bleed onto the pristine tiles as they dragged the corpse away under the sun, where Wooyoung saw the vampire crumble to ash before his eyes. Beside him, the other boy shook, and slowly sank down to the floor, watching the flesh nearly melt back into the fledgling’s skull as the sun blazed above them, a cruel eye to the monster vanishing before the two.

“...”

Wooyoung stared at them, as how those arms shook with fear as the boy looked on, watching Wooyoung’s guards sweep away the remaining dust and tuck the tattered clothes into an unmarked bag, nonchalantly tossing it into a trashcan near the front. Slowly, carefully; he lowered himself to be at eye-level with the stranger, shuffling his arm around to offer up a purple lollipop to the boy sitting, watching sharp eyes dart between Wooyoung’s face and the treat held before them.

“Go on, take it,” Wooyoung had urged, gently nudging the candy towards them. “It’s not anything bad, I promise. There’s no reason to hurt you, anyway.”

The boy’s eyes slide up to meet his, gaze sharp and distrusting. “…your friends just… made that person disappear. They shoved his clothes in the trash, like he wasn’t even there. Like he didn’t exist.”

Wooyoung twirled the stick between sticky fingers, gaze falling to the scratches littering the other’s arms. Without warning, his fingers press down on them, eliciting a yelp from the other and a look of hurt and confusion.

“What was that for?”

“That’s what they do,” Wooyoung said simply, letting go on the candy held within his arms. A guard shuffles their way over, pressing a roll of white bandages into the young hunter’s hands. 

“They hurt without knowing, and they kill without feeling. I pressed down on your marks, not knowing that they hurt, but only because they looked pretty and I wanted to touch.” 

As Wooyoung spoke, he gently grasped the bloodied arm, dipping a cotton ball into the iodine vial as he watched the cotton slowly turn rust brown before swabbing it over the blood smears, tightening his grip so that the other didn’t move. 

“They are creatures of the night,” Wooyoung whispers, letting go of their wrist to pick up the bandages, unfurling the roll. “They should not exist and feed off those who live in the day. Naivety does not excuse their actions, and it does not excuse the killings. They may be innocent, but there is no way for them to continue to exist without hurting another.”

A pull. A twist of the two ends, looped and threaded back to back so that the knot would not slip. Wooyoung stands after the ends are tied, watching the other fiddle with the bandage before he places the lollipop down again with his family’s card.

“You have good reflexes, stranger,” Wooyoung grinned wolfishly, beckoning his two guards closer to shrug on his discarded jacket, pulling the leather straps closer to himself from where it came loose. “I’ll see you around if you ever wanna come around to destroying these monsters.”

Wooyoung turned on his heel to leave the empty candy shop, dust swirling around his boots as he made his way over to the car; small puffs of ashes billowing up as a last reminder of what had once existed, and no longer does.

(His family gets a call to their private line a week later from a voice trembling from the other end, someone wanting to thank ‘Jung Wooyoung’ for what they’ve done.)

(Wooyoung meets Choi San properly a day afterwards, smirking as he grips the stranger’s hand under leather gloves and thinks of warm, golden skin that reminds him of unfiltered sunlight.)

* * *

  
  


He doesn’t want to do this.

Wooyoung looks up to the mansion, rotting away at its foundations, and grips the dagger in his hand so tightly that he thinks that his nails will bite through skin and tendon, releasing a brilliant wave of blood for the entire coven of vampires to smell.

Hongjoong had fretted about the light scars on his neck, fluttering around the medbay like a stressed blue morpho butterfly before finding a collar to cover the still-healing skin up, muttering something about the stench of artificial leather masking blood. It rests heavy against his pulse point, presence as comforting as a hand wrapped around his throat, neither squeezing nor letting go.

Other than the dagger, his gun rests within his back pocket, settling against his waist as it sits in his halter, carved with Old Blood and silver decorations since his family always seemed to emphasize the importance of tradition, letting Wooyoung fire condensed wooden bullets from this ancient thing. The recoil had knocked him over when he had first tried it too, and Wooyoung had begrudgingly let the gun back into his practice sessions recently, knowing that he could not deal with this particular coven alone with just his dagger.

The floorboards seemed just as ruined as they were two years ago, the door barely held in place as windows creaked and groaned. A draft of air whistled through, and the trees at the front shook their gnarled branches and heaved with empty trunks as the air thickened, mist rising from the forest that surrounded it. Obsidian lined steps crumbled beneath Wooyoung’s feet as the mansion seemed to sag in on itself with a sigh when he headed towards the entrance, casting a glance at the foundations of the Old House. 

_Alive, but just barely. Fitting for creatures which stole life to live for themselves._

A goblin stared down at him from the knocker, the dark stone it was carved from making the demon look as if it were wet, the polished obsidian cold beneath the hunter’s fingers as he knocked one, two, three;

“...I’m home.” Wooyoung whispers, and the door swings open.

Wind rushes to greet him, tousling his hair as the house seemed to exhale, floorboards protesting Wooyoung’s weight as he steps around the crack leading from the front of the mansion to the centre, the middle of the entry hall blown to scraps as the hunter walks around the pit, eyeing the flecks of blood that encircle it like a grisly halo. Window frames clattered against unkempt walls, mold and vines snaking and pressing against gaudy wallpaper which have had their colour drained long before Wooyoung was introduced here, on his first mission.

“I see you’ve returned, hunter.”

Wooyoung’s eyebrow twitched, and his hand retracted from where it originally laid on the dagger. 

“Yeosang,” he nods stiffly, and the other vampire nods back, gliding across the floor silently.

“You haven’t been here for a long time, hunter. It is most unlike yourself to return here, not after all that is happening in the city,” Yeosang tilts their head, light brown eyes glinting in the last remaining grasps of sunlight. “There is no reason for you to be here.”

Wooyoung snorts. “Look, I didn’t come here to get told to fucking leave right after I entered this forsaken hellhole. How you guys put up with it, I will never know.”

The vampire cracks a smile at that, blonde hair falling into their eyes as they brush the strands away, unblinking. They watched Wooyoung with those calculating eyes, carefully stepping closer to smell Wooyoung as their hair kept falling into them, the hunter watched the silken strands stick on the surface of those glassy, lifeless eyes.

Wooyoung shivers, looking away. _Yeosang never made a habit of blinking after being turned._

“Someone you want from us?” the blonde pulls away, still having yet to push back their hair. “My sources tell me that it shouldn’t be me that you want, anyway. Name them, hunter.”

“As if I’d ever capture you, dear _Yeosangie_ ,” Wooyoung scoffs, scanning the interior. “You do not hold any value to me, dead or captured. It would be a waste of my own energy to try and dispatch you, unless someone were to put a bounty on your head.”

“A name, hunter,” the vampire hisses, pretty eyes hardening. The house groans, and Wooyoung shivers again, the air having dropped to a level for the hunter’s breath to mist up like fog. “However patient I am with you, I do not tolerate disrespect. Say it and leave, or this place will not welcome you as family anymore.”

“Choi San.”

A pause. Around them, the air pauses, as if suspended in time as Wooyoung sucks in a breath, regretful that he had left his jacket back at Hongjoong’s study.

“Him?” Yeosang stared, eyes betraying the vampire’s usual frigid exterior, shock bleeding through. “You wish to find San?”

“Look, if you don’t want to help me, I understand,” Wooyoung scowled, eyes cast to the ground. Cracks web the boards beneath his floor, creaking as he shuffles in place, nudging at the splinters which have fallen from years of disuse. “I… I’ll be going if you don’t─ if you don't─”

“ _Quiet_.”

Wooyoung flinched at the vampire’s tone, anger seeping in through the edges and laced with spite. The air dropped further, a full body shiver making its way through Wooyoung’s frame as he exhales, ice crystals billowing in front of him. 

“You… _you_ , out of all people…”

Wooyoung raised his head, arms wrapped around his core as he trembled in the air of the mansion, frost creeping up windows as the windows shook. 

Yeosang’s eyes _burned_.

“Why do you care for him, hunter?”

“Listen─”

“I will not repeat my question, _Jung Wooyoung_ ,” Yeosang spat, “Why would a sadistic _monster_ like you, pride of the Jung family, go after Choi San?”

Wooyoung recoiled at the vampire’s words, bottom lip caught between teeth and almost chewed until bloody. “Yeosang, I─ I just─”

“Do you wish for him to be just like the rest of those you have slayed, Wooyoung?” Yeosang breathed, rising from his position to stalk towards Wooyoung, the temperature of the room dropping by the minute, by the _second_. 

“Do you really wish to hunt San down, he who accompanied you through all of those grueling years at the academy, the one who brought you in and _trusted you_ to not leak a single word to your─ your _disgusting_ business of dealing in lives and people and souls, just so you can bring his ashes in one of those bottles marked up with a serial number and give it back to your so-called _family_ , like some sort of mutt who only knows how to kill and be killed by the hand that feeds it?”

Never has Wooyoung seen Yeosang like this. Never has Wooyoung, prodigal son and future for the cleanse of vampires, trembled before someone as small as Yeosang, who yelped when San─

When _San_ ─

“Please.”

Yeosang falters, mid step towards the hunter, who had stopped trying to stand after Yeosang’s outburst had knocked him down. 

“...what?”

“...please, Yeosang,” Wooyoung muttered, hair hanging over eyes and gloved hands clenched into fists. “Let me see him again. Let me try to explain things… however he wishes to take them.”

Nothing moved between the two men in the mansion, even the small specks of dust lit up by the vampire’s unnaturally bright eyes. Silence prevailed as the vampire’s stance stiffened, eyes dimming and the strange frost receding back into the ruined floor of the entrance, and then they cast their eyes on the hunter, still lying on the floor, head hung in thought.

“...” Yeosang stared, eyes unmoving. A strand of hair had fallen onto their lens again, but the vamp made no move to brush it out of the way, icy gaze still trained on Wooyoung.

“Let me see him, Yeosang,” Wooyoung rasps, eyes still not leaving the floor.

“And then what, Wooyoung?”

“ _Fuck─_ I don’t know, Yeosang! What the _fuck_ do you even say to someone─ to someone that you abandoned for years, to keep them safe?” Wooyoung glares at the vampire, who looked back with an expression of either apathy or boredom. “How am I going to break it to them that _I’m_ responsible of killing him now, for killing monsters─ monsters like─”

“We’re not monsters, hunter. That’s just what you say to make the process easier for you.”

Yeosang’s voice cut through Wooyoung’s thoughts like a dagger through mud, but the hunter’s mouth was already moving on its own:

“ _Stars_ , if you saw how much they make me write up on each report, maybe you might understand how I feel about this too,” Wooyoung rubs at their eyes, wincing as Yeosang’s chuckles died off. “This is so messed up; this is so messed up. Hongjoong wants me to take care of Sannie’s case while he knows I’m a mess to begin with, as if putting two messes together would actually solve any of the underlying problems.”

Yeosang frowns. “You just called him Sannie.”

Wooyoung lets out a distressed noise, and the hunter could feel the vampire’s smirk growing. “Shut up. Leave me to wallow in peace or destroy more of those feral fledglings on the streets, I don’t care─”

“You do, though,” Yeosang murmurs, suddenly a lot closer than where Wooyoung first heard him. “You cared enough to seek me out instead of hiring a Bloodhound, and you know that’s always quicker in any way possible.”

“I don’t care for those half werewolf shits, you know that─”

“You care for him, Woo, no matter what you say.”

Between them, there was an uneasy pause as Wooyoung reweighted himself, pushing up against the floor to stand properly, Yeosang’s eyes glittering as Wooyoung looked back at the vampire, hope beating against his chest which felt too full, aching to burst.

“I do, don’t I?” Wooyoung exhales, breath shaky. “Imagine the field day that Seoul would have when they hear this: Jung’s best bet for continuing the family business, head over heels for some stupid fledgling who can’t even drink from a fucking rabbit─”

“That’s low, hunter,” Yeosang drawled, smile tugging at the corners of the vampire’s lips.

“─and me, the pride, the fucking _future for humanity_ or something they made up for today’s newspaper, I don’t care; but this is just─”

“Wooyoung.”

“─what does it even matter, anyway? Maybe I should just tell Hongjoong to switch the case, because I am truly and royally fucked on both ends by this one _stupid case_ ─

“Blood bank, 52th. The one beside the sweets shop.”

Wooyoung’s mouth goes dry. “Excuse me?”

Yeosang shrugs, flicking at a stray moth that had managed to land on the vampire’s shoulder. “You heard me, hunter. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“But that’s─”

“Yes, you should know where,” Yeosang’s eyes settle back on him, and Wooyoung shivers despite the room returning to a reasonable temperature. “You wished to see him again. You will find him there soon.”

“I…” Wooyoung licks his lips, suddenly unsure as to what he should say. Before him, the vampire lets a small grin slip, wicked fangs glinting in the rising moon:

“Don’t let our dear Sannie down, hunter.”

* * *

  
  


The shop hasn’t changed.

Wooyoung got a berating from Hongjoong as soon as he had set foot in the smaller’s study, tinie fingers gripping at his collar and demanding answers to why Wooyoung hadn’t been answering his calls for the entirety of the night; how he was so, so scared that Wooyoung had gone on another blood rampage. Between lashing bites of his advisor and friend, Wooyoung manages to formulate a somewhat believable tale of getting lost in the woods to think about the case, to which Hongjoong visibly deflates at. He sends the blue-haired man off with some cat-shaped sticky notes he had swiped from the midnight market next to Yeosang’s place, promising to let him know whenever he has a new update on his target.

His target, who was sitting under one of those silly, frilled parasols lined with lace trim and bowties and looking unfairly adorable for being a monster who could tear apart throats at a moment’s notice.

Wooyoung swallows down a breath as San shifts in their seat, eyes trained on those too-familiar features. 

High cheekbones dusted with a flush of pink. Lips pursed as the vampire scans their surroundings before settling their gaze back on the blood bank, fiddling with a string on their hoodie.

In any other circumstance, Wooyoung would have already made a move on the unsuspecting vamp, probably weaned a date or two and a piece of dessert before leaving the vamp there to process the whirlwind which in Jung Wooyoung.

However, this was different, and Wooyoung’s throat feels drier than the material of his cargo pants, obnoxious camouflage pattern making him scowl as he looks back.

 _Fuck this_. Fuck him and his stupid heart, which was threatening to beat out of his chest, to rip itself from the confines of his body and soar over to the pretty vamp perched under an umbrella at dusk, the shadows concealing the small parts of skin left uncovered by their hoodie and sweatpants.

_“A useless bottom,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes, replacing the tomes back onto shelves, mumbling out the stuck-on serial numbers._

_“...I’m sorry?”_

_“You heard me loud and clear, Woo,” The elder smirks, dusting off another book that looked larger than the advisor’s head. “Just talk to him.”_

“Fuck you, Park Seonghwa,” Wooyoung growls, watching a waiter place an empty cup onto San’s table before scurrying away, the vamp giving them a smile brighter than the sun before fishing around in their pockets, producing a small bag filled with dark, dark liquid.

Blood.

Wooyoung lets out a noise halfway between gasp and yelp, and San’s ears seem to visibly perk up, eyes darting around the shop. 

“Who’s there?”

For a minute, Wooyoung hesitated. Considered staying quiet, coming back another time so that he’s had more time to collect his head, his thoughts. Considered heading back to his dorm and Hongjoong’s study so that he could possibly choke the smaller and then beg for them to change to case to someone else, hand it to a stranger who doesn’t know Choi San and his stupidly big heart that couldn’t take blood by bite for the first week and had to resort to sippy cups so the vamp didn’t throw up at the sight of blood.

The same vamp in front of him now, halfway through pouring out blood from a bag into a delicate teacup and frowning at the decorative bushes around the shop, nostrils flaring to detect a scent.

Before Wooyoung can turn away, his traitorous tongue betrays him:

“You can’t smell me like that, y’know?”

A pause. Wooyoung could almost picture San’s eyes narrowing, the crunch of dead leaves prominent behind him, a sign that San had gotten up.

“If I can’t smell you like this…” San murmured, seemingly lost in thought. “Are you using another one of those vampire repellents? The blinding ones instead of an attack strain?”

Wooyoung almost chuckled at the guesses. “Try harder.”

Imaginary-San in Wooyoung’s mind had cocked their head in time with the vamp’s next question:

“Do you know me?”

Wooyoung had to bite back a retort at the question, his mind screaming at San for not remembering, for not realizing. “Used to.”

Silence. In his ears, Wooyoung’s blood pounds, his heart a fluttering mess. Involuntarily, his hand reached for his dagger, still and cold in its scabbard, sheathed and wicked sharp like the moon’s claw─

─only to be met with a cold hand grasping at his wrist, and dark grey eyes peering into his own brown ones.

San looks at him, all warmth gone from his face and features. In the dark, the shadows blend and bleed, making those sharp cheekbones carve dips and planes onto the face Wooyoung knew so well, the face which he had traced patterns upon and planted butterfly kisses upon, how those lips stretched into a smile with the little stickers he had carefully stuck on.

 _Stupid_.

Wooyoung swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement as San’s eyes shifted down, following the motion to the thin scars, fully displayed under lamps and moonlight, silvery and pale like spider webs.

_So very, very stupid._

An exhale. Wooyoung’s lungs flutter, the intake of breath something so clumsy, so human─ eyes flickering over San’s features as if it would disappear at any second when San pulls back, Wooyoung’s brows drawing together in confusion when─

Oh.

The glint of silver held very carefully between San’s fingers, and the cold stare the vamp was looking at Wooyoung with.

Carefully, Wooyoung let go of a breath. “San─”

“Good evening, hunter.”

_Hunter._

Wooyoung’s breath hitched, eyes snapping back to meet San’s.

The vampire was looking at him with what could only be described as indifference, fingers stroking the silver hilt and pulling back, a slight sound of sizzling in the air as San inspected their burnt fingers, moonlight allowing Wooyoung to look at the wound slowly closing; vanishing before the hunter’s eyes. 

“I…” Wooyoung swallows, eyes flickering to San, who was still looking at the hunter, eyes trained on the sliver of the silver blade still glittering within the vampire’s grip.

“Well?” San’s voice was dangerously low, poison seeping in through the edges, eyes ablaze as the vampire glared at Wooyoung, a growl creeping in. “Care to explain why you were hidden in a bush, _spying on me_ feeding in the middle of the night?”

“Wait!”

San pauses, eyes still trained on Wooyoung, who had begun trembling slightly from the vampire’s presence. “ _What?_ ”

“I… I…” Wooyoung swallows. “I just…”

“Spit it out, _pretty boy_. I don’t have all day to waste to listen to you stutter and stumble on your words like a fawn taking its first steps.” San hisses, stepping closer, the silver of the hilt hidden by the vamp’s sleeve as San sheathes it, tossing it to the ground. “Talk, or take your pretty toy and leave me alone.”

“…” Wooyoung blinks, dumbfounded at San’s words as the vampire shook out their sleeve and hissed a bit at the contact again, shuffling a bit before settling, turning those cat-like eyes back on the hunter again.

Above the two, the wind howled, and moonlight poured down around them once more, the cloud having moved on and leaving the two bathed in the silvery light. 

San raises an eyebrow, and Wooyoung’s heart nearly stops at the sight of his former confidante, illuminated by the soft glow of the night.

Upon further inspection, Wooyoung almost breathed out a sigh of relief as he took in San’s face again, no longer hidden by the shadows caused by the dimmed streetlights. The scars earned from their escapades in training have all but faded, unblemished skin staring back at him while Wooyoung’s heart swelled for a bit, a little flare of comfort radiating beneath his skin as his lips twitched up.

San frowned. Wooyoung just smirked, causing the vampire to roll their eyes to the sky, eyes glassy with stars and speckled with the signature trace of silver lines within brown irises, an indicator of how long it’s been since a vamp’s been turned. 

“Why was I here, you ask?” Wooyoung purrs, stepping closer, all of his equipment and weapons glittering as he stepped further out under the light, delighted as San’s eyes betrayed a small flash of fear. “I was just going to seek out some new targets for my assignments, you see~ and then I came across you, all lonely here.”

At this, San’s nostrils flared visibly, eyes flashing in warning; Wooyoung’s heart beating in the hunter’s ears as he prowled around the vampire, getting close enough to map out the smatter of moles across the vamp’s neck, grinning up at the other.

“Don’t get too worked up, though,” Wooyoung hums, dragging his eyes up and down the vampire’s torso, making sure to plaster a sickly sweet smile on his face as San glared back in defiance. “I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to make sure you’ll end up just as pretty as the others that I cut down—

“... that’s not your reason for seeing me, is it?”

Wooyoung falters. “Excuse me?”

San meets his gaze again, and the hunter scans the vampire’s face, noting the little twitch in their eyebrow as the vampire speaks again:

“You’re lying, Wooyoung.”

“Bold of you to assume that, vamp,” the hunter scoffs, stepping close enough so that they were face to face with the other, feeling their eyes on them as they breathed next to their silent chest, warmth fanning across the vampire’s skin as the hunter continues:

“You’re a fool to think I would hold you on top of my duties, _Choi San_ ,” Wooyoung smiles, eyes flickering back and forth between those glassy, glassy eyes of the vampire before him. “You’re a bigger fool yet if you think I’m here to seek you out exclusively, to turn my back upon my family, who have made it their life’s goal to see the rest of your kind eradicated.

“There’s nothing else out there for me, dear _Sannie_. I live to put the dead to rest once more, that’s all. I will not allow the dead to feed upon the living, no matter the reason for doing so. A lion who kills prey with its teeth and claws is no different from your kind keeping us alive as your food sources, nothing else.”

San’s eyes almost resemble the darkened clouds outside, and Wooyoung notes the vampire’s sunken appearance, crimson staining the space beneath the vampire’s eyes as they sniff at the air, a look of curiosity replacing their hard-set features with more… gentle ones?

Wooyoung leaned in again. “Hey, cat got your tongue, or what? Aren’t you gonna grace me with some words of wisdom before I finally get the chance to flay you alive out here, display your pretty corpse for the sun to melt away—

“Listen, Wooyoung,” San sighs, “Can we please stop this— whatever this is?”

Wooyoung took a step back, startled. “I— what do you mean?”

The vampire almost seemed troubled, eyes darting between the hunter and their original spot outside the cafe, now dimmed on the inside. Dead leaves rustled among them, the night eerily calm save for the stray howls of the wind, echoed by the buildings surrounding the two.

“I know that you’re here for me, Wooyoung,” the vampire sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if you’re here to finish me off for your family pride or if you’re here to talk; but if we’re going to fight, can we atleast move away from here? The coffeeshop puts too much trust in me and I don’t want to leave a bloodbath in front of a nice business, that’s all.”

“You…” Wooyoung blinks, taking in the vampire’s sudden change in emotions, the once cold exterior melted away to show a much flustered side, San eyeing his little cup under the parasol. “Since when did you start caring so much for a coffee shop?”

San turned to glare at Wooyoung, eyes flashing. The hunter simply grinned and held up his hands, watching as the vampire scanned his palms for any sign of silver dust.

“It’s called basic respect, Woo,” San sneered, “I’d rather not be the person leaving fledgling ash and mutilated bodies for some poor random stranger to find and report.”

Wooyoung shrugs. “At least I’m cleaning up after the messes some fucked up sire made, leaving all of those fledglings alone without care. You know best how rogues work, Sannie, and you know what my job entails.”

“We both know that you killed that fully fledged vampire for a different reason, Woo.”

Silence stood firm between the two, San having yet to tear his eyes away from Wooyoung, scanning and standing poised, a clear sign of distrust as the hunter cocked his head, merely observing.

“We’re getting nowhere,” Wooyoung sighed dramatically after a second, his smug smile widening as San’s grounded expression was quickly replaced with confusion. “Why don’t we sit down to chat? I seem to have interrupted your… feeding, after all.”

San’s eyes narrowed. “Is this another ploy to let me sit down so you can behead me faster?”  
“Whatever. Suit yourself.” Wooyoung scoffs, pulling out the chair across from San’s seat and plopping himself down, swinging his leg over the other as he watched the vampire track his movements. San had also seemed to forget about his mimicked breathing as he watched Wooyoung, grey eyes following the little taps of the hunter’s boot against the ground, lips parted but chest unmoving.

“Well?” Wooyoung gestured towards the cup. “Eat up. My knife isn’t even on me, you have the full advantage here.”

San seemed to take a second to process Wooyoung’s words before his posture relaxed a bit, shuffling over to the chair and sitting down with a huff, staring at the dark liquid within the petite teacup. “You dick. It’s already begun scabbing over from the amount of time you took, and now I have to drink this because the bank’s closed.”

A pout made its way onto the vamp’s face, and Wooyoung had to forcibly shove down a coo at how San’s fledging fangs had poked out slightly before the vampire took a gulp, grimacing at the texture.

“So…” Wooyoung hums, “How’s vampirism treating ya? Was it as cool as it seemed while we were training against those simulations, being able to run up walls and shit?”

San merely raised his head, lips stained with blood as he pondered Wooyoung’s question, tongue darting out to lick at the corners of their mouth. “It’s… more complex, I think.”

“We have all night,” Wooyoung leans back, watching the vamp take another mouthful. “Hongjoong was going to flay me alive had I not started tracking you, so I’m here to just… let’s just call it ‘stalking,’ alright?”

San’s brows furrowed. “Then what use is it to hear me ramble on? I’m not stupid, Wooyoung. You’re chatting me up right now, but I’ve seen you do worse than this.”

“True,” Wooyoung says, “But I also wanted to talk to you for a bit. For something else.”

“For what then, exactly?”

_Oh boy. This is it. This is how Wooyoung’s reputation ends._

The hunter swallows. “Well, you see—”

“ _Wooyoung, is that you?_ ”

Shit.

San’s eyes widened, then they turned to Wooyoung, fire blazing in them once again as the vampire stood. “You lied to me.”

“No! No, I just—” Wooyoung stammered, hands rummaging in his jacket, his belt. 

“A hunter through and through,” San scorns, scanning the abandoned plaza where the mouth of the coffeeshop fed into. “I should’ve known there was something up when you asked me to sit down and chat.”

“No, no; it’s not like that San— shit, the tracker wasn’t turned off.” Wooyoung breathes, finally locating a small black box with a red dot blinking back at the hunter like a lazy eye. “They must’ve thought I killed again, I was here for too long.”

San’s eyebrow rose, and Wooyoung glared back, brown eyes meeting silver. For a split second, it felt like San was struggling to believe him, so Wooyoung looked around for any CC cameras, stomping down on the box when he found none.

The box in question let out a little wail when it was crushed, the hunter haphazardly gathering the pieces and dumping it into a corner, watching the little light fade.

“You…” San stood, flabbergasted at the hunter scattering the pieces around. “What are you—”

“We have to leave. Now.”

San barely had time to nod as Wooyoung grabbed the vamp’s wrist, turning down the block where he came from and pushing San to the wall, covering the vampire’s body with his own as San struggled beneath him, snarling.

“Shut up,” Wooyoung muttered, listening to the sound of boots thundering in the distance. “The more you breathe, the more death they smell here. You’ll lead them right to us.”

San’s lips closed immediately, chest rising up and down as Wooyoung stared, watching the vampire take breaths that were useless to a dead body.

From outside the little nook the hunter had pulled the two into, the sound of boots only got closer, and San’s nostrils flared, confusion overtaking their features as they brought a clawed hand up, tracing patterns across Wooyoung’s skin.

_D… o… g…_

Shit. 

“Dogs,” Wooyoung cursed, San nodding at the word. “Fuck you, Kim Hongjoong. He actually brought those mutts around after all, the ever diligent _bastard_.”

At San’s questioning gaze, Wooyoung sighed, leaning closer to breathe in San’s ears, feeling the vampire tremble beneath him:

“Half-weres,” the hunter muttered, “Dogs are just another breed. It’ll be a genuine Bloodhound if Hongjoong got lucky, probably some type of dog hybrid the labs spewed out and left to die, now repurposed for us.”

“ _Over here!_ ”

San’s nose twitched again, and the vampire gripped at the hunter’s sleeves, talons catching on Wooyoung’s jacket as their eyes peered into his, urgent and afraid.

_I don’t want to die._

Wooyoung’s head felt ready to burst, the sound of footsteps getting closer as the hunter leaned in once again, eyes scanning the vampire’s face. “Do you trust me?”

A pause. Then, the vampire looked down, almost in shame, hiding their face away.

“ _Hyung, I sense something over here! Here, over here!_ ”

Wooyoung swore, shook San again, forcing the vamp to look up at him. “Listen up. If you don’t wanna die, you gotta trust me, alright? Can you do that?”

San looked back, grey eyes trembling, and squeezed Wooyoung’s arm in tandem.

_Yes._

Wooyoung let out his breath, pulling back from San, smiling back at the vampire. 

“ _Thank you.”_

And then, in one smooth action, the hunter pulled out his gun and fired.

The howl that tore itself out of San’s lips was almost animalistic as Wooyoung moved in, purposefully walking into the vamp’s swings as he winces, bracing himself as San’s nails ripped both cloth and flesh, fangs snapping as the hunter drops his gun, tackling the vampire to the ground.

“ _Quiet down,_ ” Wooyoung whispered, listening to the calls of the backup group, the patterning of feets getting closer. San squirmed under him, thrashing between Wooyoung’s thighs pinning him down. His fangs glittered in the pale light of the moon, and Wooyoung had to press down on San’s torso to keep the vamp still as he inspected the gunshot.

As expected, the bullet grazed the top of San’s shoulder, the smell of burnt flesh and singed cloth apparent as Wooyoung breathed out a sigh of relief. The scent of old blood, consumed blood which ran through a vampire’s veins would be a dead giveaway to the Hound, Wooyoung taking the liberty to press down more in order to smear it across San’s clothes, the vampire letting out a keen as the hunter worked. The flow of blood was slow, and Wooyoung slowed down to watch San’s skin try to close, little patches of flesh moving to push the wound together, the vampire hissing as the skin bridge sizzled each time it touched the silver trail of the bullet’s path.

“Stay still,” Wooyoung muttered, ripping a piece of his sleeve off to press against the wound, murmuring soothing words to the vampire as they whined at the pressure, cloth slowly turning maroon. “When was the last time you fed?”

San’s breathing was rapid, Wooyoung feeling the vampire nearly hyperventilated as their lungs fluttered. “I… A week ago? Two weeks? Fuck— it _hurts_ , Woo, it hurts so fucking much—”

“I got you,” Wooyoung says, tearing his sleeve off and wincing at the sting it brought, the pieces of cloth caught in San’s scratches tearing through the flesh and bringing with it a wave of blood, dripping down the length of the hunter’s arms.

Beneath him, San’s nostrils flared, eyes lighting up bright grey as the vampire nearly drooled at the sight, the hunter scoffing at their reaction as he brought his arm up, dripping blood all over San’s shirt.

“Listen to me as you feed, alright?” Wooyoung brings his arm down to San’s mouth, crimson staining the vampire’s skin as he feels the texture of a cold tongue tracing the trails of blood, sighing at the contact. “Thank you, first of all. I’m sorry for catching you off guard, but this is the most I can do.”

San hums beneath him, and Wooyoung leans down, shifting his arm so that the vampire can lap at the rest, watching the hunter with those bright, bright eyes.

“When they get here, try your best to make yourself bleed; the Hound would assume you’re dead since dead ones don’t have the energy to keep blood within their bodies anymore,” Wooyoung mutters, “Eat up and then keep still. You’ll need it if they refuse to leave all night to watch you die in the morning.”

San makes a small noise at that, and Wooyoung removes his arm, looking down at the vampire, who had stopped breathing again.

“What if … What if they wait, Woo?” The vamp asks, mouth smeared with the hunter’s blood, visibly looking better than they were in the plaza. “What do I do then? What do _we_ do then?”

Wooyoung opened his mouth, about to answer before the footsteps grew loud enough to hear the number of people, and the hunter pushes the vamp down, a silent promise of _we’ll cross that bridge once we get there_ hanging in the air as he straightens up, spotting flashlight beams at the mouth of the alley.

“Hyung! Hyung, I see someone there!”

A voice, a young one at that, and Wooyoung quickly casts a final look at the vampire before straightening up and smoothing out his expression to one of apathy, blocking the light with his bloodied hand as he squinted to make out the group before him.

“ _Stars_ , Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung hums, turning back to San’s body again, watching the old blood pool beneath the vamp. “Good to see you too, Seonghwa-hyung.”

The elder stepped closer, wincing at the stench of gore as he looked back and forth between Wooyoung and San, the hunter fiddling with his fingers and reveling in how they stuck together due to the drying blood, and breathed through his mouth.

“Wooyoung, what happened here?” Seonghwa groaned as another gush of blood poured out from San’s lips, trails of it leaking out from the vamp’s ears and eye corners as the bookkeeper turned his eye back on Wooyoung, the hunter letting out a disinterested noise before picking at their fingernails. “Answer me, what the _fuck_ where you thinking, killing another one so close to humans again?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “At least it wasn’t as bad as before, okay? I even held back on tearing them apart this time, it’ll make cleanup easier for you this time, so quit being a bitch and leave me be.”

Seonghwa gags again, and then their gaze drifts down to Wooyoung’s arms. “They did a number on you, didn’t they?”

“I’m not the one dead and bleeding out on the ground, hyung,” the hunter drawls, walking closer to kick San’s body so that their face was hidden, facing the pavement. “Did you bring another one of our _dear_ Hongjoongie’s toys along? I heard them calling out a while back while I was trying to have some fun with this one before I tore them apart.”

Seonghwa’s eyes light up at that. “I forgot! This is Yunho, he’s been calling out all this time since we noticed your tracker and the blood near the cafe. He figured something was wrong as soon as your scent was mixed with some sort of animal blood, so we came running right away.”

A tall figure stepped closer, and Wooyoung grins in appreciation, sticking out a hand to greet the were. “Hongjoong trained you well, didn’t he?”

The Hound in question blushed, strawberry blonde locks falling forward as they bowed, floppy ears bouncing as Wooyoung stared at them. _A retriever._ He was going to have so many things to tease the advisor about once he returns to base.

“It’s nice to meet you, Wooyoung-ssi!” Yunho grinned, and Wooyoung swears that San would’ve disintegrated right there with how bright the Hound’s smile was. “Hongjoong told me lots about you.”

Wooyoung grinned back, and the Hound took the hunter’s hand, bloodied and all. He could see why Hongjoong chose this one, infectious energy enough to make Wooyoung almost smile genuinely back before releasing the taller’s hand, walking towards Seonghwa.

“Hwa-hyung, could you leave me alone for a while?” Wooyoung whispered, watching how Yunho turned towards them, ears twitching with a confused expression on the Hound’s face. “I still wanted to just stay with the vamp for a bit. I don’t wanna get Hongjoong’s new… puppy dirty, alright?”

Seonghwa shot him a warning look. “Wooyoung—”

“I won’t make it too hard for you, hyungie~” Wooyoung smirked, watching the bookkeeper’s face pale again. “I’ll keep the walls clean, alright? I just wanna see the vamp gone by the morning. I _want_ to see them disappear.”

With that, the elder sighed, rubbing at the temples as he waved for the team to leave, Wooyoung blowing a kiss to Yunho to see the Hound blush profusely and scurry after Seonghwa, a fluffy golden tail trailing behind. _Cute_ , the hunter thinks, watching them leave, and then a groan snaps him out of his trance.

“He’s adorable, isn’t he?”

“Good morning to you too, vamp,” Wooyoung scoffs, turning back to see San sitting up, the glow in their eyes not as bright but still there. “Had a nice recovery?”

San snorted, wincing as they rolled their shoulders experimentally. “Could be better had there not been silver. What the fuck was that though, the silver dust on the surface? Another one of Hongjoong’s—?”

“Nope,” Wooyoung grinned wolfishly, settling back down beside the vampire, watching their chest heave up and down. “Mingi.”

The vampire seemed to understand, head falling back as Wooyoung watched them swallow, the vamp’s throat bobbing. The unnatural paleness, he realizes with glee, had not removed the smatter of neck noles there near the vamp’s collarbones, the marks remaining there like constellations.

“Are you going to keep staring at me, or are we going to figure out what to do now that they’re gone?”

Wooyoung looks back at San, meeting grey eyes with brown as the hunter smiles, offering a hand to the vampire, who stared at it dumbly, not knowing whether to take it or not.

“Take it,” Wooyoung urges, watching San’s face morph into confusion, staring at the hunter’s blood-stained hand. “There’s no reason for me to hurt you.”

San stared back. “You… but you just—”

“And that changes,” Wooyoung pressed, grabbing the vampire’s wrist to pull him up, heart pounding too fast for him to suppress. He chose to ignore the looks San was giving him, swallowing down his heart before heading out of the alleyway, the vampire trailing behind him like the biggest joke of the century: a hunter saving its prey.

“Let’s meet back with Yeosangie, shall we?”

* * *

“You are both going to be the death of me.”

Yeosang had let the two of them in without a second glance, ushering the bleeding vamp and hunter inside as he shut the door, icy eyes giving Wooyoung an once-over as the blonde rushed over to San, who was whining with the strain of Wooyoung half-carrying, half-dragging him here.

“It appears that I was wrong to assume that you two would have a peaceful talk,” Yeosang mutters, opening a small briefcase to display _very_ sharp instruments laid out neatly inside. “Give me the scissors, Wooyoung.”

“Look, I didn’t even plan this out,” Wooyoung huffs, handing over a pair of small, wood-handled scissors to the blonde vampire. “I was going to just see how he was doing and leave. Possibly even just hand the assignment back to Hongjoong, for all that I care.”

“You say that, and yet here you are: scratches down your arms and silver in your _dear_ Sannie’s shoulder,” Yeosang hums, looking past Wooyoung’s scowl as San winced again, the blonde cutting away the fabric that the hunter had pushed aside earlier. “How did you even let him hit you?”

It took Wooyoung a second to realize that Yeosang was addressing San now, the dark-haired vampire also pretty out of it as Wooyoung watched their brows furrow, grey eyes questioning.

Yeosang repeated their question, and San seemed to get it, head falling back onto the dusty couch Wooyoung had set him on.

“It was…” San wheezed as Yeosang pulled the wound apart slightly, examining the flecks of silver dust and shrapnel. “You could call it— ah, _fuck!_ —you c-could call it a leap in faith, I think.”

Yeosang raised a groomed eyebrow at that. “So you trusted him, the hunter?”

San’s lips parted, then closed, then parted again, a keening noise making its way out of his bloodied mouth as Yeosang slipped tweezers into the wound, probing the ruined flesh. 

“There wasn’t… another way out,” San wheezed, Yeosang making a small triumphant noise as they pulled a shiny fleck of metal out, Wooyoung opening his hand to catch it as Yeosang’s tweezers returned. “We were talking, then— _shit_ , Yeosang—we were talking, and then Wooyoung’s team came looking for him.”

At this,Yeosang’s eyes snapped to the hunter, hands perfectly still as if the vampire had been a statue, with only their lips betraying the illusion. “You sent your team after San?”

“No! Oh _fuck_ no, Yeosang, it’s not what you think,” Wooyoung breathed, throwing away the scrap metal. “I didn’t— ah fuck, this is gonna sound bad no matter how I explain it— but I had my tracker on and I think they noticed I’ve been in one place for far too long? Seonghwa came with a Hound and they were worried since the Hound smelled animal blood on me and thought I was in trouble.”

Yeosang kept staring at Wooyoung, eyes quick and cold as they scanned down the hunter’s face, his body posture, until San tugged at their hand weakly and begged them to hurry up.

“This isn’t over, hunter. I don’t give out locations for you to hurt them,” the blonde growled, low in their throat as the tweezers were put back. “I take it that you weren’t able to visit the bank?”

“Closed,” Wooyoung nods to San, who nodded as well. “I kind of ruined San’s meal by butting in too; the cup scabbed over.”

Yeosang hums, “I’ll bring something over, then. Stay still.”

The blonde leaves, and it’s just the two of them again.

Alone, in the main room, the only sounds echoing in the empty manor being their breathing, and Wooyoung looks back at San again, who had their eyes open, chest moving up and down.

“…don’t you ever get tired of looking at me?”

Wooyoung smirked. “What~? Are you getting shy on me now?”

San bit down on their lip, a grin making its way onto the vampire’s face as they sighed, and Wooyoung saw the slivers of pale fangs tucked away neatly in there. “You wish.”

They stayed like that for a while, and curiosity got the best of the hunter, who turned back to face the vampire again:

“Why do you do that?”

San frowned. “Do what?”

“Y’know, like…” Wooyoung flailed his arm around before hissing at the scratches, shooting a glare at San who had snickered at the hunter’s pain. “Why do you… breathe? I thought it wasn’t necessary for you guys anymore, considering the whole… y’know. Blood thing.”

San stared at Wooyoung for what seemed like a good minute before humming, fangs peeking out through lips. The hunter’s heart stuttered at that, at the vampire being only a few feet away yet feeling so far, the weight of the assignment like a heavy rock in the back of his mind. He had yet to tell San about the assignment after all, the vamp only having some knowledge that Wooyoung had been tracking him tonight. 

He hadn’t told San about why he had left. He didn’t explain anything to the vamp, only that he was tracking him and now San’s sitting there with a shoulder that _Wooyoung_ had fired at. There’s no tension, but the air between them felt like it could shift at any second, become just as tense as when San had discovered him watching, had thought that Wooyoung would kill him—

A giggle interrupted Wooyoung’s thoughts, however, and he looked up to see San _laughing_.

“Oh, _stars_ , Woo,” the vamp snorted, hiding a fanged smile behind a pale hand. “Don’t tell me that you just called vampirism the **‘** _blood thing._ ’”

Woo paused, soaking in what the vamp had just said. “I—”

San _wheezed_ , giggles pouring out and overflowing until Wooyoung smiled too, chuckling along. Maybe he’ll give San this. Just this time.

Yeosang whirled into the room not long afterwards, eyeing the two with wary expression before stating that he had to meet up with an ‘old friend’ and leaving the two, a cup of blood set out for San and warmed. He handed a mug of hot water over to the hunter with a packet of instant coffee, leaving the room and the mansion with a click of the door.

The two stared in silence, making sure that the room was definitely warmer without Yeosang’s presence, and picked up their respective drinks. San hummed as they took a sip, Wooyoung leaning back to reach for his knife when—

“Oh, I forgot to return this to you earlier. My apologies.”

Wooyoung looked up, and saw his dagger in San’s hands, and back at the vampire with a questioning gaze. San, bless his non-beating heart, got the message, dropping it beside him with a wince as the slight burns on their palm started to heal themselves.

“Shit,” Wooyoung hissed, getting up from his seat and snatching away the knife, taking San’s hand into his own. “Idiot. Why do that when you could’ve just told me to take it?”

“Didn’t want Yeosang to know that soon,” the vamp grinned, and Wooyoung rolled their eyes, slicing the packet open to dump into the hot water, watching swirls of the coffee mix slowly dissolve and blend with the clear water.

They sat in silence for a bit, the scent of coffee and iron mixing in the air before the vamp cleared his throat, turning back to Wooyoung with a glint in those cat-like eyes.

“You told me that you wanted to talk, so talk now, Woo,” the vamp pressed, gaze settling on the hunter’s face. “We have time now to figure out everything, so tell me: why did you ask Yeosang where I was?”

“I…” Wooyoung looked down at his mug, a rock settling at the back of his throat. “I…”

“Take your time, I won’t bite.” San grinned, flashing fangs and a toothy smile, which was mirrored by Wooyoung’s pained grin.

“I… I owe you this, really,” Wooyoung swallowed, thumbing at the dagger’s scabbard. “Stars, San— I’m just so fucking sorry for everything, okay? I’m not even sure where to begin, with the academy or with my parents or with the stupid assignment I have—”

“Listen to me, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung looked up, and San smiled back, all soft lines and eye crinkles. “Take your time, okay?”

“...” Wooyoung looked down again, and with an encouraging hum from San, begun speaking again:

“When you first got turned… stars, I thought it would be okay for me to just ignore it, Sannie.” San nodded, and Wooyoung continued. “I thought I could’ve kept it all under wraps, I wanted to hide you away from the academy or just kept pretending you were still the Choi San I knew; I just wanted you back, not a pale imitation of what you were once you woke up after you were turned.”

“I thought that if I kept pretending— if I kept pretending, then everything would be alright. I would keep going out on assignments, keep killing those wretched rogues—” Wooyoung hiccuped, and San makes a soft noise of comfort. “I thought— I thought we would just go back to us. To the best duo the academy ever had. Back to us, back to whatever we were before this mess.”

“But then it didn’t happen, you weren’t fine afterwards and I kept on thinking you were going to be fine, that you’re going to be the same,” Wooyoung whispered, eyes on the steam from his coffee. “I kept killing, and I kept going. You had to be escorted out, and I didn’t know until the morning after, when you were long gone and I was left alone to carry out what my family wanted.

“They wanted me to forget about you, fully. They took me on more and more assignments, gave me a stupid knife as if my long-dead ancestors would convince me that abandoning you was the right choice.” Wooyoung breathed, knuckles turning white as the hunter held the dagger in a death grip. “They thought— they thought if I just kept killing, kept putting those rogues down, I would forget about my feelings for you. That I would just see you as another one of _them_ , an abomination walking around living off other peoples’ lives.”

“And you know what the funniest thing was?” Wooyoung chuckled, turning back to San, who was listening in rapt attention. “I believed them. I believed that just because you were turned, you were no longer the person I knew. That you were a monster just like them, a monster that I needed to rid the Earth of.”

“Wooyoung…”

“And I _just kept killing_ , San!” Wooyoung turned to the vamp, the beginnings of tears beginning to form in the hunter’s eyes, threatening to roll down eyelashes and onto the layers of dust in the old mansion. “I just kept following them around, believing that the numbness after killing was going to _help_ me get over you— I was so fucking stupid, you know that?”

“Woo—”

“I was so numb, Sannie,” Wooyoung muttered, “I kept killing just to feel something, _anything_ , and the thrill of the kill never lasted. So I just… kept killing. I switched it up too— cutting them up, dismembering, wandering into places so that I’d have an excuse to kill— I just wanted to feel something after being numb so long. I kept missing you, and I never even bothered to check where you were, like there was a fake ‘human’ San out there, as if you’re not the same person even after turning.”

“ _Stars_ , Woo,” San murmured, “I’m…”

“There were times where I thought _I_ was the monster,” Wooyoung sniffled, “There were times I looked back on all those bodies and felt fear of myself. I wondered if you could ever forgive me, and then I was back to killing again.”

“You needed something, didn’t you?” San whispered, still looking at the hunter. “You wanted something to distract yourself, to forget I was turned?”

“It’s not even that, San, it’s just—” Wooyoung let out a frustrated growl, San patiently waiting on their couch. 

“I saw you as a monster after you turned, almost as if you now stole the ‘human’ San away from me. When I realized that you were turned, I was horrified by the thought of there being another fledgling, and I was disgusted with myself since I’ve convinced myself that the turned are just the dead who needed to die again. But with you, my mind stopped. I didn’t know what to see you as; Choi San or a monster.”

"You told me that you kill monsters," San said nonchalantly, setting down his cup. "Jung Wooyoung, pride of the Jungs and possibly the best vampire slayer there is in Seoul, and yet..."

Wooyoung swallowed his coffee and without breaking eye contact, dumped the rest of his drink into San's; watching red and brown swirl before it settled to the colour of bloodrust. "And yet?"

"And yet, those who say they hunt monsters, usually are the real monsters of this world, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung stared, and San flashed the hunter a smile, all fanged tooth and wicked claws, picking up the bloodied cup of coffee and ichor:

"You were the exception."

* * *

_ What are we going to do now? _

The question hung in the air as the moon did above them, impossible to ignore given their current predicament. San’s wounds had all but healed, faint pink marks the only sign of struggle and a mottled brown stain near his shoulder, which Wooyoung had patched up with another cloth, mulling over the vamp’s words.

They’d let time pass between them after Wooyoung’s talk, a comfortable silence that left both of their cups empty, Wooyoung nodding off as San hummed and whistled occasionally.

“I can’t believe I met you,” Wooyoung mumbled, fighting a yawn as San rose from their seat, settling next to the hunter. “I can’t believe that I thought that leaving you was the best option I had that day.”

San hummed, “At least it’s over now, right? No more killing sprees just because you were scared of talking to me?”

Wooyoung slapped the vampire lightly, grinning at their antics before yawning for real, watching San’s face soften. “Shut up. You know how it is with my parents; I just have to do whatever they tell me.”

“...” San paused, “Wooyoung, you should live your own life sometimes, you know?”

“It’s not as simple as it seems, San,” Wooyoung laments, arching his back like a cat to stretch. “You’re not the one being revelled in the public eye for being a hero or whatever, my parents wouldn’t probably let me have anything else than vampire-hunting being my main career choice. Hell, they even gave me shit when I tried to have a favourite candy flavour, can you believe that?”

San’s expression was sad, talons having found Wooyoung’s blood-matted hair. The vampire began stroking it, watching as Wooyoung leaned into their touch, fingernails deftly untangling clumps and thick strands. Black locks tumbled down, and San gazed at Wooyoung with something so tender that Wooyoung’s chest  _ hurt _ , the hunter forgetting how expressive the vamp could be when they wanted to.

“… Do you want to change that, then?” San murmurs, fingertips finding Wooyoung’s scalp and gently massaging it, watching the tension seep out of the hunter’s figure. “Have you ever thought of living outside of this: outside of being a hunter?”

“That’s impossible, Sannie,” Wooyoung slurs, eyes blurry and unfocused. “They’ll find a way to make me stay, no matter what I try. They’ve taken my toys, they’ve taken my teachers… they took me away from you, and they’ll keep taking unless I willingly give.”

“But you’re hurting yourself, Woo,” San pressed gently, fingers stilling as Wooyoung whines at the loss. “Sleep on it, alright? You’ll have the whole night to mull it over.”

Wooyoung pouted, about to open his mouth to retort, when the door slammed open, a cold draft sweeping the mansion and loud, panting breaths.

_ Yeosang. _

San looked at him, and they dashed to the front, trailing dried blood and bandages until the draft hit them properly, Wooyoung wincing at the cold before his body adjusted, the hunter blinking and squinting through the mist of his breath.

At the door stood two figures, Yeosang on the left and—

“Jongho!” Wooyoung screeched, San almost jumping on the wall in fright, the vamp’s imaginary cat tail puffed up in fear as the hunter rushed forward towards the smaller, stockier man. “I missed you so—!”

“Hello to you too, Wooyoung,” Jongho smiled tiredly, kind eyes and red hair framing a round, baby-like face. “Hello, San.”

San blinked. “Me? Wait, hang on, how do you—”

“How do I know your name?” Jongho grinned, and Yeosang excused himself as the red-haired hunter stepped in. “I keep the records, so I get to see everything.”

“That’s… impressive,” San expresses, watching Jongho scan the manor. “This is Yeosang’s place, by the way. I didn’t know that you and Yeosang were close.”

“Memory helps when you’ve got an Ancient who can see anyone given a name and face,” Jongho hummed, “Especially when I’ve got near-perfect memory. Although it was nice seeing Seonghwa-hyung break down whenever I start reciting the worst vampire street names there are, Yeosang-hyung has proven himself to be… interesting.”

“You make me sound old while you talk like a living encyclopedia, Jjong,” the blonde huffed, bringing in a strange, hourglass-looking device to the middle of the table, dusting off the palms of leather-clad hands. “Just cut to the chase and tell them?”

Jongho merely shuffled past them, a file in tow that looked very familiar to the black-haired hunter and they tried to snatch it.

Jongho frowned. “Wooyoung, no—”

“That’s San’s file, isn’t it?”

San’s heart dropped. “That’s my what?”

Jongho proceeded to give the raven hunter the dirtiest glare before turning back to the vamp, an unreadable expression in those doe-like eyes.

“San-ssi, Yeosang asked me to get these for you; and I want you to think of this carefully before you say anything, alright? Feel free to also step anytime, but Yeosang felt that this was for the best.”

At San’s nod, the red-haired hunter continued:

“What we have here, right now; is a hunter unwilling to hunt his prey—” A nod at Wooyoung, who huffed and turned away. “And you, the prey who refuses to fight the hunter who protects them.”

San’s lips parted at that, about to argue that  _ hey, he’s got talons and he’s not afraid to use them _ , when Jongho makes a ‘shush’-ing gesture and moves on, snapping on their own leather gloves before picking up the hourglass that Yeosang had left behind.

Somewhere behind him, a soft gasp fell from Wooyoung’s lips, but San was too busy staring at the hourglass in the smaller man’s hands, the sand seemingly stuck at the top.

A  _ Chronos _ . San’s mind stumbles, words going back to the classes where he and Wooyoung fooled around too much, waiting for the field instead of taking notes on dusty old artifacts.

“This—” Jongho gave it a spin, and San’s jaw dropped; the sand in the hourglass flowing, strangely, from bottom to top. “—is a Chronos. It’s Yeosang’s right now, but he’s been generous enough to lend it to you for the time being.”

_ Chronos. Greek for time, they provide various service for those who manage to tame them; including the potential manipulation of time flow, time stops, removal of select time sections _ —

_ Manipulating time _ .

“That’s…” Wooyoung seemed to be frozen, the mist in the air hovering as the raven hunter took a breath. “That’s what Yeosang told me not to touch that one time I was over, he said something about me not being able to choose yet, and tucked it away.”

“That’s correct,” Jongho nodded at Wooyoung, the raven hunter stepping out and chewing on their bottom lip almost as anxiously as San. “When one holds a Chronos, they have a choice to make; they either offer the Tool to become its new master, or they give up a piece of their life for the Tool to grant them a service, no matter how big or small.”

“But…” San’s eyes drift down to the red-haired hunter’s hands. “Aren’t you carrying it right now?”

Jongho stared down at his hands, then back up, a pained smile on their face. “Gloves, San-ssi. Skin to skin contact is the requirement for a Trade to occur.”

“Jongho,” Wooyoung’s voice is small, trembling. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

“Choi San,” Jongho’s eyes are still on San, unwavering as they ignored Wooyoung. “Yeosang mentioned that you trusted Wooyoung to put a bullet near you, so I’ll ask you this: do you trust him now?”   
“I…” San swallowed down his doubts, eyes meeting the other’s. “Of course.”

“Good. Because the next stage is going to involve a lot of it.”

With that, Jongho digs out San’s file, the vampire cringing at the bright red “URGENT” stamped on it. 

“The Chronos is not giving, nor does it take any more than it feels like it deserves,” Jongho hums, digging around for a pen. “It also works for one person at a time.”

The shorter let out a triumphant  _ aha  _ when he found one, tugging the cap off it and began writing on the pristine white papers of the vampire’s file. 

Wooyoung frowned. “What does that have to do with me and Sannie, then?”

The red-haired hunter finished their sentence with a flourish, straightening out the papers before handing them to Wooyoung, a playful look in their eyes as they continued:

“What if the case was reported missing, Wooyoung, with the fledgling nowhere to be found? And even if they searched far and wide, all they would find would be some abandoned clothes with barely any scent, because the fledgling is… let’s say: no longer living within this time?”

San’s eyes squinted, then lit up, a look of shock on the vamp’s pretty features as they faced Jongho. “You’re telling me to time travel?”

“Correct,” Jongho sighed, taking San’s files back out of Wooyoung’s hands as the hunter stood still and processed the word written so clearly in ink, curved letters and signed with a flourish:

_ Subject missing. All units are to search for one month to find confirmation of death. _ _  
_ _ Signed, Jongho Choi. _

“What…” San breathes, unable to form words.

“You’ll be able to get what the both of you want.”

Wooyoung felt like a mountain had been lifted off his chest, falling forward to brace himself against the table. “Jongho, how… Why did you offer this now? You were so against fledglings and yet—”

“And yet.” The other smiles, watching San’s eyes twinkle with hope. “I was able to change. Funny how people do that, no?”

“…” 

Wooyoung swallowed, looking back at the hourglass, and then to San, whose eyes shone with something indescribable and warm, looking at the little grains sparkling near the top.

“How do we use it then, Jongho-ssi?” San asked, breathless. “This is a way for us to just be us again, Wooyoung. This is a chance to—”

“Not exactly.”

San paused, looking back at Jongho. “What do you mean?”

“You see, the Chronos manipulates time, but it cannot control the extent of its manipulation.” Jongho replied, stepping forward. “Which is why I ask you this again: do you trust Wooyoung?”

“Of course,” San frowned. “I don’t understand why that’s so important.”

“San,” Jongho’s voice was low, almost apologetic. “You cannot control how long the Chronos sends you back or forwards; and the only thing Yeosang could do is to make sure that it sends you forwards, into the future.”

San’s brows furrowed. “Okay? But that’s fine, right? I’ll be alright, Woo will be alright, and I’ll just find him one day, I’ll—”

“We cannot determine that.”

“That’s stupid,” San hissed, talons digging into the vampire’s palms. “Wooyoung would work his ass off to find me, and if he doesn’t: I’ll find him and beat his ass for not trying, I’ll—”

"All of our memories with you will stop here, if you decide to make the Trade.” The hourglass dangled between the red-haired hunter and the vamp. “A defense mechanism, so to speak, that allows the user of the Chronos to remain hidden so that they would not be found so easily. Your presence would be gone; erased even, if the time gap is too great. We would not be able to recognize you, and we would not be as merciful to what would appear to be a fledgling claiming that they know the most elite hunter in Seoul.”

“But…” San looked back at the hourglass, golden sand twinkling gently, almost like an invitation. “What about Wooyoung? Why is he so important?”

“Wooyoung can choose to forget you, during or at some time of the time gap.” Jongho explained, watching the raven hunter stiffen. “He wouldn’t be willing, but the remembrance of static and the feeling of trying to remember something that he can’t… it’ll be nothing but baggage, and certainly not worth it to hang on to. He can choose to let go of his locked memories, and thus forget that you ever existed. You’ll wait for someone who has no recollection of who you were to them; but only know that you’re a threat.”

“San,” Wooyoung called, worried. “You don’t have to do this; we can work something out, like, like;  _ fuck _ , I don’t know, we’ll run away a-and—”

“And what?”

Wooyoung paused, blinking back at San. “Huh?”   
“And then what, Woo?” San’s voice cracked, the edge of desperation in the vamp’s words. “We run away and leave you the biggest target of Seoul, having abandoned your post? We both get tracked down and killed, is that the ending you want?”

“I…” Wooyoung’s lip trembled, the hunter’s fists balling up. “I just—  _ I don’t want to lose you again _ , that’s all! I don’t… I don’t want to forget, a-and leave you alone and wondering where I am and—”

“Listen to me, Woo,” San said carefully, stepping away from Jongho to gently hold Wooyoung’s frame by his own, listening to the hunter’s rattling breaths and the pounding of their heart. “It’s going to be alright, okay? Trust me, and I’ll trust you; alright?”

A pause. A sniffle sounded from Wooyoung’s body, and San felt the hunter’s chin dig into his shoulder twice as a nod, the raven’s arms coming around to squeeze the vampire tightly, as if the hunter was trying to mold himself into the gaps where the vampire couldn't fill up by himself.

“I’ll miss you,” Wooyoung murmured, “I’ll miss you so goddamn much, you know that? Don’t ever get killed while I’m coming back to you, alright? I’m the only one taking your stupid case, after all.”

San cracked a smile, hands finding their way to the hunter’s nape as they rested there, the hunter’s head still buried in the vamp’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Woo,” San smiled, tugging Wooyoung even closer, letting the hunter rest on him, a heavy weight that grounded him to this place, to this moment.

“I’ll meet you there again, right where we started.”

* * *

It was autumn when Wooyoung met him.

Two winters since his family’s reunion, a summer before the laws separating vampires and humans had been abolished, surprisingly by an activist group for the rights governing human rights. To his surprise, Hongjoong had spearheaded the argument that vampires had deserved just as many rights as people, since the bodies they inhabit were not considered corpses, but just as alive as someone who needs to breathe and live through the pounding of their hearts; that vampires shouldn’t be considered as anything less. Needless to say, the advisor’s facts and arguments were largely backed by the public, who were just as sick of killing as Wooyoung had been ever since Jongho brought him out of Yeosang’s place that one night, when the hunter’s brain felt largely swollen and blank and had left the raven-haired hunter with an empty sort of heartache.

Wooyoung’s family, however, had been less than amused to find out that their advisor was the one against the protests of the Jung family’s cruelty, having left Wooyoung to fend for the Seoul post alone. It hadn’t lasted long before his parents had ushered him out of the building one night while he was on patrol, slamming him inside a car before rushing away and allowing the hunter to look back upon the once-shining Jung building as flames had begun to lick up the sides.

Fighting the arguments had been fruitless, and his parents seemed to have deflated at the loss of the Seoul outpost while Wooyoung congratulated Hongjoong for winning the case, the smaller man allowing for the ex-hunter to settle down, Jongho visiting at strange hours with Yeosang as soon as the younger found out where the raven settled.

At first, the visits seemed to be out of politeness, the red-haired man dropping in at around five am for the first time, seemingly searching for Wooyoung and immediately checking the raven for injuries. Wooyoung had assumed that it was a joke then, and laughed it off good-naturedly for the following visits too, joking that he was still okay to hunt if need be.

Then the visits got frequent. And then Wooyoung realized why.

While Wooyoung had admittedly forgotten most of his hunting skills by the first year anniversary of the Jung’s closing, there had been a nagging feeling in his mind ever since Jongho brought him home from Yeosang’s, the ex-hunter whining about his dizziness and tiredness all the way home. It was that moment that came back to Wooyoung a year later, when the ex-hunter had been sitting down to play video games with the Hongjoong and Jongho to relax after a particularly difficult case appeal to a separate court, one that had rejected Hongjoong’s subordinates multiple times.

“Say, Jongho,” Wooyoung hummed, eyes not leaving the screen as his kart picked up speed, turning around a particularly sharp angle; sidling up to the younger’s position. “What happened when you brought me home that night?”

“Shut up, Wooyoung-ah,” Hongjoong grits, his kart trailing into 6th. “No one wants to hear about your sexcapades while you were on field duty.”

_ We better not get caught for this, I swear. _

Wooyoung’s heart throbs for a moment, gasping as a phantom voice rang in his ears, remote clattering to the ground. Beside him, Jongho yelped before dropping their controller as well, Hongjoong’s abandoned kart zooming past both ex-hunters and into the wall as the two huddled around Wooyoung, concerned.

“Woo? Wooyoung, are you alright?” Hongjoong swore, digging around in their pockets. “Shit, wait for me, I’ll call for someone to pick Woo up, hang on.”

“Wooyoung, what’s happening?” Jongho’s face came into Wooyoung’s view, blurred from the pain in the raven’s chest as they whined again, curled in on themselves. “Hyung! Hyung, hang on; don’t call yet. Wooyoung?”

“I— yes?” Wooyoung wheezes, hands grasping at his shirt where it hurt, Jongho’s calloused hand on top of his own. “I’m here, I’m here— oh  _ fuck,  _ you mother f—”

“Wooyoung, are you alright? Can you tell me what happened?”   
Jongho’s face swam into Wooyoung’s vision again, and the raven winced as a new wave of pain radiated from his chest.

“I— oh, fuck; I heard a voice?” Wooyoung groaned, “They s-said something about not getting caught… right after Hongjoong mentioned the sexcapade thing and I don’t know why it hurt me so much to here something but—”

“Wooyoung, you’re crying.”

“I— huh?” The raven brung up his hands to his cheeks, and sure enough: they were wet. A shuffling noise came from the hallaway, and Wooyoung whirls around to see Hongjoong at the doorway, Jongho kneeling beside him and the room feels too small and—

“I’m going out,” Wooyoung gasped, stumbling up to his feet. Hongjoong let out a noise of protest, but Jongho barred the elder, staring at Wooyoung as the raven tugged on a jacket and stepped into his shoes, one hand clutching at his chest. “I— I need some air,  _ fuck. _ ”

“Suit yourself,” Jongho called, Wooyoung having already turned the doorknob to get outside. “Come back soon!”

With a slam of the door, Wooyoung’s feet carried him downstairs, the raven shivering in the fall breeze as he wandered around the complex, eventually taking a path down the side. Around him, fallen leaves blew around in a frantic dance of oranges and reds, and Wooyoung smiled at that, watching the fluttering of the leaves.

_ What if I dyed my hair like fall, Woo? Do you think your parents would get mad? _

Another wave of pain, fresher this time, and Wooyoung nearly doubled over, biting back a groan as he leaned up against a brick wall, scanning the plaza he had walked into and spotting a chair underneath a parasol in front of one shope decorated with faux lace trim. Without thinking too much about it, he dragged himself over, clutching at his heart as it continued to ache, the ex-hunter curled in on himself like a wounded animal until he realized the pair of legs before his vision.

“Excuse me, sir; would you like to order?” A voice greeted him through the pain, oddly familiar as Wooyoung tried to compose himself. “I’m sorry, formalities; but the shop states that only paying customers are allowed to stay.”

“I…” Wooyoung’s mind blanks, eyes still casted down and screwed shut as he replies: 

“A coffee, please. Instant if you don’t mind—  _ fuck,  _ sorry.”

A hum came from above him, and Wooyoung sighs into the table as the server left, his mind fuzzy and cloudy like someone had replaced his thoughts with stuffing. After a while, a door opened and shut from somewhere behind him., and Wooyoung makes out the tinkle of a bell before a presence is next to him again, the smell of coffee wafting up to meet his nose. 

“ _ Stars,  _ thank you,” Wooyoung groaned, a chuckle coming from the server as they set the drink down. From behind the cup, a crinkle of plastic caught the raven’s eye, hand coming to reach behind and—

“Go on, take it.” 

Wooyoung’s world seemed to tip on its edge, lollipop held tightly as his head started spinning, a hand there, a smile there; dimples poking out from smiles and

“It’s not anything bad, I promise. There’s no reason to hurt you, anyway.”

"..." Wooyoung turned his head up, meeting oh-so familiar grey eyes crinkled at the corners, and fangs glittering in the afternoon sun.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
" _San_?"

"Welcome back, Wooyoung."


End file.
